


Heartlines

by bugmadoo



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Alternate Universe - Magic, Fluff, Gryffindor!Mickey, Hogwarts, M/M, Magical Creatures, Slytherin!Ian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-27
Updated: 2016-03-15
Packaged: 2018-05-09 18:44:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 15,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5551241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bugmadoo/pseuds/bugmadoo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Glimpses into Mickey's life at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 1st & 2nd Year

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Astrifer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Astrifer/gifts).



> Happy Birthday Demi! I'm glad to have you in the (tiny) gryffindor!mickey squad.
> 
> Title from Heartlines by Florence + the Machine

**First Year**

The Sorting Hat slipped right over his eyes and half-way over his nose and for a split second Mickey wondered if his head was really that small or if the hat was really that big. A cotton-numb kind of silence engulfed him in the darkness that followed and Mickey clenched his eyes shut. The anticipation and the publicity of it all made him tense, amplifying his nervousness and Mickey tried his best to brace himself for however this was going to go.

“Hmm,” a small voice suddenly echoed in his ear and Mickey almost jumped, letting out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding.

“Another Milkovich, I see,” the Sorting Hat continued, sounding very contemplative, “You’re different from the rest of your family though, aren’t you? Oh yes, I see a lot of potential.”

Then Mickey was engulfed in complete silence again. Mickey raised his eyebrows under the Hat in surprise. His brothers had told him that the Sorting Hat worked by looking into people’s heads, and he had expected the intruding and vulnerable feeling he associated with the Legilimency spell. His shoulders sagged a little in relief when the Hat seemed to be able to work just fine without making Mickey feel uncomfortable.

“I see nerve,” the voice went on, “yes, you don’t mince your words, do you? You protect what’s yours, too. Courage as well, and loyalty. Oh yes.”

Mickey didn’t dare to move, much less think of anything in particular, unsure of what to make of the Sorting Hat’s musings.

“Where should I put you, though, Mister Milkovich? Possibilities, possibilities.”

 _Slytherin Slytherin Slytherin,_ Mickey thought.

“Slytherin, hmm?”

The hum was drawn out longer than Mickey thought should be possible, a low continuous humming in his ears that seemed like it would never end but only fade out slowly. It stopped just he started growing fidgety and the Sorting Hat continued.

“Yes, you could fit into Slytherin, no doubt, it’s all there. I see the cunning, resourcefulness, oh yes, clever too.”

The palms of Mickey’s hands felt clammy, the muscles in his fingers strained as he tried his hardest not to clench them into fists. He felt like a bow stretched impossibly taut, ready to either shoot or break in half, and he had no idea which one was more likely to happen.

“However, I believe there is another house that could help you live up to your full potential, Mister Milkovich.”

Mickey held his breath and the world around him slowed down, singling into one single point, his breathing and heart stopping.

“Gryffindor!” the Sorting Hat exclaimed finally. It felt like a bubble that burst inside his chest, releasing the pressure from inside by exhaling deeply.

The Hat was lifted off his shoulders and Mickey stood up to walk over to the table on the far left cheering the loudest. He endured the pats on his back and the yells of congratulations, uncomfortable with the attention. Mickey kept his gaze down for the most part, trying to avoid his brothers’ stares that were no doubt shooting daggers at him from across the Great Hall. He was not looking forward to his father’s howler that probably was on its way already.

\---

A combination of being unable to sleep in the complete silence of the boys’ dormitory, the temptation of undiscovered places, and the desire for solitude drove Mickey to the Forbidden Forest most nights.

Sneaking out of the castle posed less of a problem than Mickey thought it would, the secret passageways and shortcuts something that was easy for him to find out. So sometimes it came down to pride that he would use every opportunity to take advantage of them, sometimes those opportunities simply just presented themselves in the middle of the night and sometimes they merely led into the Forest that surrounded the Hogwarts grounds.

He took the same route towards the Forbidden Forest as always, far enough away from Hagrid’s Hut not to be seen but close enough to use it as a point of orientation. His wand was cast low, his cloak billowing slightly behind him, his strides quick and determined. Mickey reached the first trees, stopped and turned around. The moonlight was shining through a few holes in the blanket of clouds, making for a pretty backdrop for the castle which was towering dark and mightily in the distance.

Mickey back turned around and didn’t hesitate with entering the forest. He willed his Lumos to become brighter as the trees grew denser next to the already carved path, and he started walking along the now familiar trees, keeping his eyes ahead of him while illuminating as much of his surroundings as he could. The longer he walked and the deeper he wandered, the quieter the world around him became. The only sounds breaking the silence were the occasional hoots of an owl and the little amount of noise Mickey’s feet made. The creatures of the forest were either asleep or wouldn’t come near the paths, and it somehow gave him a sense of security he didn’t have in the closed walls of the castle.

As luck would have it, it wasn’t going to always stay that way. It came in the way of a thrumming somewhere deep in the forest. Mickey’s heart skipped a beat and he halted his steps when he heard a dull thud that sounded like a tree being felled. The thud was followed by more noises and this time they sounded distinctively more animalistic, screeches and howls echoing in waves. Mickey stood there frozen, straining his ears to locate whatever was happening as best as he could. It did sound as if it was coming deep from the forest but it certainly wouldn’t hurt to make sure. As he stood there, minutes trickling by, the sounds disappearing bit by bit, the calmness slowly returning, and the quieter it grew the more Mickey’s muscles relaxed. He resumed his walk along the path.

Not a whole minute passed and suddenly, it was near him. Mickey whipped his head around just in time to see the first one galloping towards him. The centaur passed Mickey with a speed that almost caused him to topple over and he only had a moment to regain his balance before they were all around him, a ear-bashing drumming noise, and it felt like it was coming from right inside his head instead of assaulting his ear-drums from all around him.

The centaurs bashed past him, miraculously not fully clashing with him, but hands brushed against his shoulders, and while the touch wasn’t much, it was enough to make him sway, threatening to topple him over. He dug his feet into the ground, knowing that falling would probably be his death sentence, and tried to concentrate. Mickey’s right hand was clutched tightly around his wand, his brain working hard on deciding what to do and how the fuck to get out of this situation. Hex a big group of quick centaurs? Impossible, can’t hex a single centaur let alone a whole bunch of them. He may have learned some magic before he came to Hogwarts but none that could have prepared him for _this_. For a brief second the question struck him of what Terry would do if he found out that his youngest son had been trampled over by a bunch of Half-bloods, but he berated himself a second later. His heart was threatening to beat out of his chest, matching the erratic thumps of hooves, and he forced himself to take a breath.

Mickey was about to try it with an Immobilus charm when the ground was sucked from beneath him.

There was a weird feeling of being squeezed through a tube which was over quicker than he could blink and it only registered in his head after it was already over. It felt a lot like Apparating, but Mickey was sure he didn’t wander deep enough into the forest for the anti-Apparition wards to wear off. Time and space where clawing at him, sinking hooks into his skin – then, there was silence.

Fresh oxygen thankfully filled his lungs and he felt the softness of grass and moss on his cheek before anything else. He opened his eyes. The moon that had been half hidden earlier in the night, was now fully visible, illuminating the clearing with cold silver light. The grass was tall, mixed with ferns and flowers, bending with the nightly wind that blew in Mickey’s face and blowing up dirt from the ground, causing his eyes to blink rapidly. He heard the rustling of movement nearby, sending all his nerves on high alert once again, the adrenaline rushing into every cell of his body, fight or flight, fight or flight.

Clenching his teeth, Mickey clutched his hand tightly around his wand and hoisted himself up on his hands, scrambling to his feet quickly, his wand cast and ready to attack.

There were four identical magical creatures standing in front of Mickey, looking like nothing he had ever seen before. The first associations that came into Mickey’s mind were ‘hedgehog’ and ‘cat’ but that still didn’t feel accurate at all. From their legs to the tips of their ears, the creatures all had the stature of a panther, lean and majestic, wide paws and piercing eyes. Their backs were covered in spikes, long and black with red tips, most of them pointing upwards in anticipation of a fight. Sharp teeth peaked through their lips, ears moving to catch the sounds coming from the forest. Both parties stood still, trying to gauge and anticipate the other’s reaction, eyes scanning and muscles tensing. Mickey wasn’t able to tell how long they stood there like this but somehow, from one moment to the other, something tipped and it was like a wave of something invisible ripping through the creatures.

“What the fuck,” Mickey whispered to himself when he saw what happened next.

Their fur started fading from black to grey to white, their bodies reducing in size, the spikes disappearing into their skin, hard lines turning softer, hair becoming slightly longer and much fuzzier. When the transformation seemed to be complete, the cat association became even stronger although they were still bigger than any cat Mickey had ever seen in person.

“You are such an idiot,” the creature standing closest to Mickey said and its voice sounded quite high and child-like, but still wise and experienced, as if the night hadn’t surprised him enough already. “Wandering the forest alone at night. So many worse things could have happened to you! And a student to top it all off!”

The expression on the creature’s face were surprisingly animated and human, and it would have been endlessly fascinating if Mickey had the faintest idea what the hell was going on, or if his heart would calm down a little. As it was, the thing was still beating rapidly in his chest for what felt like an eternity now, pumping oxygen as fast as his lungs could comply. Mickey readjusted his grip in his wand, not trusting the admittedly cute outwards appearance of the creatures. All signs hinted at the fact that those things had just saved from potentially being trampled to death by a horde of centaurs but who was to say that they just took him because he had been an easy target at that moment?

“What the fuck do you want?” Mickey said, his voice a little more insecure and breathy than he would have liked.

The creature that had just spoken took a step towards Mickey. Another. And another.

“Alex, what are you doing we’re not supposed to stay,” whispered one of the other creatures, but it was still loud enough for Mickey to hear, its voice high too, but more male-sounding than the other one.

The first one didn’t pay the other one any heed but kept its eyes fixed on Mickey with a scary intensity.

“Is this how you thank us for saving your life Mister-“ the creature left the sentence hanging in the air while taking another step towards Mickey, “Milkovich?”

Confusion wasn’t strong enough of a word for what Mickey was feeling. The world was tilting in his axis as far as he was concerned. First the centaurs going anywhere near the paths, parting for Mickey without sparing him a second glance and not running him over. Then the four wild creatures getting him out of there and bringing him to a seemingly secluded part of the forest, talking and making no efforts to hurt him. It didn’t make any sense, none of this really did. But even through his confusion-huddled brain he knew he had to be on alert, magical creatures were even less predictable than humans most of the time.

“How do you know my name?”

“We know many things,” the cat-thing replied, “just like we knew you needed our help tonight.”

“Why?” Mickey asked and his chest felt like it took the entire air in his lungs to form the question.

The creature furrowed its eyes in question, making the creases between its eyes look like a real question mark, but it still managed to maintain a certain animosity in its stare.

“Why did you help me? I didn’t need any help, I had it under control.”

“If that was you in control I do not want to see you out of control.”

“Alex, would you leave him alone-“ quipped another one of the group but it got interrupted by the first one again.

“Brian, let me do this.“

“Wait you’re-,” Mickey interrupted, “you’ve got actual names? You’re name’s _Alex_?”

“Of course we have names who do you think we are?”

“I don’t goddamn know, what the hell _are_ you?” Mickey asked exasperatingly.

The white creature standing only a handful of feet away almost looked like it was smiling softly. “Nothing you have to worry about.”

“But-“

“No buts, I’m going to get you out of this forest and then I hope I’ll never see you again. And put your wand away.”

“Why would I do that?

“You mean, how do you know that we won’t harm you if you do? Well, I’d say you’re a first year student wandering alone in the forest and there’s four of us. If we didn’t try anything so far we won’t start now.”

The creature bared all its teeth in something that was supposed to resemble a smile. Mickey gasped. Admittedly it was hard not to see any logic in that statement and he would probably make himself look like a fool if he didn’t do as they said. They did save him from being trampled.

He lowered his hand clutching his wand until it was hanging tiredly next to his torso, but he refused to stow it away, the suspicion when it came to strangers (and strange magical creatures for that matter) rooted too deeply inside him to let go of it. The creature took the last few steps to close the distance between them and stopped next to him, both of the looking at the other three oversized white cats.

“Put your hand on my head,” it commanded.

Mickey was hesitant to do so, indecisive if trusting a wild magical creature was a wise thing to do. It probably wasn’t. He watched his hand slowly close the distance to the creature and when the tips of his fingers came in contact with the animal, he was relieved to find that nothing magical happened, instead he was surprised about the softness that greeted him. The fur was softer than anything Mickey had ever felt, the sensation almost like warm liquid between his fingers.

“Hold onto me,” the creature said, its head half turned towards Mickey, and he did.

Immediately, Mickey was sucked through a tunnel of vacuum again and this time he recognized it as Apparating. When it was over Mickey shook his head as to rid himself of the clammy feeling. He looked around and recognized the beginning of the path he had taken into the forest that night, Hagrid’s Hut visible through the last rows of trees. Mickey whipped around to where the creature was standing, somehow looking even less harmful than before they Apparated, and Mickey thought that someone who didn’t know the other version of the creature would probably call it ‘cute’.

“You can Apparate on school grounds?” Mickey asked bewildered.

“Of course,” the Alex creature replied, sitting back on her haunches and watching Mickey closely. The scrutiny didn’t sit well with Mickey and he was just about to say something when the creature Disapparated.

Mickey stared at the spot where it had been sitting just a second ago and asked himself if his brain was be able to conjure a dream this detailed and realistic, or if all of this really just happened. Just to be safe, Mickey pinched himself in the arm and – yeah, definitely not a dream.

“Well,” he muttered to himself and shook his head, “time for bed.”

The distance to the castle seemed much shorter now than it did earlier.

 

**Second Year**

The Great Hall was buzzing with excitement as it always did on the evening of September 1st. The general feeling of it wafted through the giant room, bounced off the walls and rose high into the seemingly open ceiling that reflected the clear night sky from outside. An unusual amount of stars were visible tonight, twinkling and shining, looking like a thousand diamonds strewn across a dark blue blanket, and even the moon made an appearance, its half full face resting in one corner of the ceiling. They were pretty to look at most definitely, but useless in illuminating anything in comparison to the amount of chandeliers floating around and torches lining up along the walls of the Great Hall.

Everybody’s eyes were trained on the dwindling line of first years waiting to be sorted into the four houses at the front of the hall. The Ravenclaw and the Slytherin table were happy to report the biggest number of new students, the waves of enthusiasm never faltering for each new face, cheers and chants filling the hall every time. The fresh additions to Gryffindor and Hufflepuff were small and were all sitting at the head of the table, looking slightly intimidated and wide-eyed. The proceedings went on as quick as usual, and the latest person “Langley, Justin” had become the newest addition to Hufflepuff house.

“Milkovich, Mandy!” was the next name Professor McGonagall read from the long parchment in her hands.

He watched Mandy walk the steps towards the stool standing in front of the hall, her strides confident, and her head held high. Mickey saw her body betray the façade however, in the way her shoulders tensed marginally and her eyes clenched shut when she sat down. Thinking about if he should flash her a smile across the hall, Mickey kept his eyes trained on her the entire time, waiting for her to maybe look his way, but McGonagall lowered the Hat on Mandy’s head without much ado, and the hall quieted down once again.

Mickey couldn’t tell how long the Sorting Hat rested on Mandy’s head before it came to a decision, but he was nervous, his stomach tied into knots, and every passing second felt thick and slow, like trying to break apart Turkish delight, or wading through molasses. He thought about last year when he had been in that very same position and how the Sorting Hat had taken its time to debate which house exactly to put Mickey in. He wondered if there were several options for Mandy too, if she was asking the Hat to put her into a particular house, or if all it was very obvious in her case.

“Slytherin!” the Sorting Hat exclaimed after an undefinable amount of time and McGonagall lifted the hat off Mandy’s head, a few strands of her black hair sticking up. There was a smile on her face as she walked to the side of the hall to where Mickey’s brothers where cheering and wolf-whistling the loudest of all.

Mickey clapped along politely with the other houses but swallowed dry. It hadn’t been very reasonable, but he still had held out hope that he wouldn’t remain the only Milkovich in Gryffindor and only now did he realize that that part of him had been bigger than he thought it was. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. This surely was going to bestow a new surge of letters from his father and his uncles on him.

The war may be over but his family’s feud with Gryffindors wasn’t.

Where Mickey came from, ‘we’ was always more than a pronoun. ‘We’ was an identity, a right, a legitimation, a privilege. It implied family, blood ties, and traditions – one of them Slytherin house and the generations of Milkoviches it had accommodated. It was defined by negation: ‘we’ being what other people weren’t and always used in an antagonizing way.

Predictably, Mickey being sorted into Gryffindor has brought a lot of that antagonism Mickey’s way. The pranks his brothers usually played on unsuspecting victims from other houses targeted him now too, Mickey, the black sheep of the family. His stomach sank. It would have been nice to have Mandy by his side, maybe even a little selfish since then the scorn wouldn’t be directed solely at him, but apparently the Sorting Hat had been right last year. He really was different from the rest of his family.

Mickey was the first and only Milkovich to be sorted into Gryffindor in the last three generations.

\---

The first thing Mickey registered when he came to, was the pulsating pain at the back of his head. The world was black and silent behind his closed eyelids and he strained his ears to gain some orientation as to where he was. He felt warm and almost comfortable considering the pain and he realized he was lying in a bed, though it wasn’t familiar enough for it to be his own in Gryffindor tower. Gradually, he became aware of the rest of his body and he moved his toes and fingers, that initial impulse waking up the nerves and muscles in the rest of his body.

Trying to remember how he ended up like this proved quite useless, the throbbing getting worse as he scrambled backwards through his memories. What he distinctly remembered was Quidditch, the wind and the rain whipping at his face harshly and Captain Williams yelling at him from across the pitch. However, he wasn’t really able to tell if this was a fresh memory or an old one, the realization followed by a queasy feeling in his stomach. Mickey opened his eyes.

The color grey was the first thing he registered and after a few more blinks, he recognized the stone ceiling of Hogwarts castle. He lowered his gaze and took in the windows opposite of him, the late afternoon sun filtering inside, shades of pink already coloring the sky on the horizon. He blinked a few more times against the intruding sunrays and then he saw the beds lined up underneath the windows. It didn’t take much to figure out that he was lying in the hospital wing.

Mickey swept his gaze to his left side and saw more empty beds, the infirmary empty besides him. He had to move his eyes farther than he normally did, the rhythmic pounding of his head making the edges of his vision blur. When he turned his head to his right, Mickey almost jumped as he spotted an unfamiliar figure sitting on a chair beside his bed. He did a double take, just to make sure his imagination wasn’t playing a trick on him. But no, even after another blink the boy was still sitting there. The freckles and the red hair were the most prominent thing about the boy’s looks, but there also was his scrawny frame not much unlike Mickey himself, and the Slytherin tie around his neck.

An uneasy feeling crawled up Mickey’s back immediately, and he felt on edge even though the stranger did not give him a very hostile impression. In fact the boy had an easy smile on his lips and confidence dancing round his eyes. Mickey didn’t trust it.

“Who the fuck are you?”

“I’m Ian,” the redhead answered but cleared his throat before continuing, “Ian Gallagher.”

“Am I supposed to know you?” Mickey asked, irritated by not only the scrawny kid sitting by his bed, but his lack of memory in addition to the pain radiating from his head.

Gallagher cleared his throat before he responded. “Yeah, I’m responsible for you being here … sort of.”

“Sort of?”

“Do you always formulate everything as a question?”

Mickey shot Ian the best glare he could muster. He looked at him more closely for a second, maybe looking for a clue as to why there was this expectant look on the redhead’s face. Mickey looked again at the Slytherin emblem on the cloak and when he glanced back up into the other kid’s face, it suddenly clicked.

“Shit, right, you’re one of Slytherin’s Beaters.”

“Thank Salazar, your brain isn’t completely gone to shit.”

“You do realize that _I’m_ the one lying in the hospital wing with no idea what’s going on?

“Shit, yeah, sorry I’m-“

“Did we win?”

Gallagher looked as if he couldn’t decide if he should smile or not and Mickey frowned. He really hoped that facial expression didn’t mean what Mickey thought it did.

“Sorry to disappoint, but Slytherin finally broke Gryffindor’s winning streak,” Gallagher informed him.

“In the last game of the season? Fucking hell,” Mickey cursed and he almost threw his head into the pillow before he remembered his predicament. “What’s the score?”

“60 – 210,” Ian answered and this time there was no mistaking the triumphant grin on his lips. Mickey felt like hexing it off Gallagher’s face.

“What the fuck happened?”

Ian’s face immediately fell and a frown dragged down the corners of his mouth. He raised a hand from his lap and ran it over his hair, resting at his neck and looking at the floor.

“You got a Bludger to your head. Passed out and fell off your broom like a sack of potatoes. Madame Hooch saw it in time to catch you fortunately.”

“There’s nothing fortunate about this fucking headache I’m sporting.”

“You’d rather be scraped off the floor of the Quidditch pitch with worse injuries?” Ian asked, an incredulous look on his face and Mickey had a hard time figuring out if Ian really believe what he said or if he was just really good at pretending.

Thankfully, Mickey didn’t have to answer that question because they were interrupted.

“Ah, Mister Milkovich, you’re finally awake,” came a voice from the other side of the infirmary and when Mickey turned his head carefully, he saw Madame Pomfrey walking over to his bed, paying no attention to Gallagher. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I took a fucking-, a Bludger to the head,” Mickey replied grumpily and took his hand off the bump on his head.

Mickey liked to think that he saw a smile dance on her lips as Madam Pomfrey silently conjured a spoon and took a brown bottle from where it had been standing unnoticed on his bedside table.

“I’m going to give you a potion for your head, I wanted you to wake up before I gave you anything. Nay pain? Memory loss?”

“Pain yes, memory loss no,” Mickey gritted out, the pounding in his head becoming worse the longer he talked.

Madame Pomfrey swiftly poured some of the red liquid on the spoon and fed it to Mickey who had to fight the urge to spit it out again. They had to invent a word stronger than ‘bitter’ for this stuff, Mickey thought, but he still managed to swallow it down. At least magical potions worked quickly.

“Call me if you need something,” she said and softly patted Mickey’s shoulder. She turned and walked back across the infirmary towards her office, the clacking of her shoes echoing around the otherwise empty hospital wing.

“Sorry my Bludger hit you in the head,” Ian said after a beat of silence. Mickey had almost forgotten that Gallagher was still there and he was even more surprised at how genuinely regretful he sounded. Beaters usually didn’t care who got hit by Bludgers as long as it wasn’t someone from their own team.

“Why do you goddamn Slytherins let a first year be a Beater anyway,” Mickey grumbled, fighting against the potion-induced sleepiness tugging at his eyelids.

“I’m pretty good at it.”

Instead of replying, Mickey lifted his hand to point at the bump on his head. Ian chuckled.

“Usually. I’m pretty good at it _usually_.”

Mickey shook his head but couldn’t suppress the amusement tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Alright Gallagher, you made your point you can go now.”

“Okay yeah, you’re - ” Ian fumbled and stood up, “hope you feel better soon. Bye.”

Mickey lifted his hand for what was supposed to be a salute but what came out more like a wave. He watched Gallagher’s retreating figure while his own eyelids drooped lower and lower, but after only a few steps Ian turned around and walked back to Mickey’s bed.

“Here,” Ian said and put something at Mickey’s bedside table, “got you something as … you know.”

Mickey didn’t know if that was all Ian had said or if that was just the moment he fell asleep, but when he woke up he saw the Chocolate Frog sitting on his bedside table. He looked for the card of famous wizards and witches first and he smiled when he read _Victor Krum_. It was one of the four missing cards in his collection.

 


	2. 3rd - 7th Year

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize profusely for the delay on this I wanted to update it much earlier but life came in the way! Still, shout out to Jeff Buckley and the Harry Potter soundtrack for getting me through this and to Fran for the support. AND of course thanks to Demi for being the reason this fic exists in the first place, here we go!!

**Third Year**

The Hogwarts grounds were disappointingly snow free on Christmas Eve. Not that Mickey was a particular fan of any form of weather extremes, whether it was warm or cold, but his last two Christmases at Hogwarts had been coated in a thick layer of white and he had been waiting for it without really thinking about the fact that the weather was still something no spell or charm could control. But as it was, the view that presented itself was dominated by shades of brown and green instead of bright white, even though the temperatures where icy enough to expect it.

Mickey’s vision grew blurry as he kept staring at the forest, a deep green billowing and spreading, the sounds of the common room fading away somewhere into the back of his mind. The stone of the windowsill he was sitting on was surprisingly warm, but he still felt the chill seep in through the thin window. A shiver ran up his arm and down his back.

“Mickey? Mickey!”

He blinked, his surroundings making their way back to him. “Merlin, what?”

He turned his head and saw Mandy, surprised that she was still here in the Gryffindor common room. He looked behind her and saw a couple of younger faces he didn’t recognize, colors of all houses represented as far as he could tell and he raised one of his eyebrows in question.

“I’m going to bed. You should go to bed before midnight too, since, you know,” she looked around the room, “it’s Christmas and all.”

“Since when do you keep up with Christmas traditions?”

“Since I can.” She smirked. “Goodnight.”

“Night.”

He gave her a half-hearted wave and looked back out the window. Still no sign of snow, unfortunately.

Mickey kept staring out of the window, the image getting in and out of focus but eventually he grew bored and turned his gaze inside the common room. It was mostly empty, not many student staying over at the castle during the holidays this year, and the handful that were seemed to have gathered around the fireplace furthest away from where Mickey was sitting.

It was only a little past 11pm when Mickey checked the clock and while he didn’t want to do what Mandy had told him to out of simple principle, he couldn’t really think of anything to do with himself that didn’t involve reading or sneaking out of the castle. It might not be snowing but if his Care of Magical Creatures class had taught him anything yesterday, then that no snow did not equal bearable temperatures.

Mickey leaned his head fall back against the stone wall and he groaned before swinging out of his seat and made his way up the spiral staircase to his dorm to find it empty. He didn’t waste any time with changing out of his uniform and into his pajamas, closing the curtains around his bed and getting beneath the warm sheets.

 _Whatever, it’s not a Christmas thing_ , he thought, burying his head deeper into his pillows and closed his eyes.

\---

On Christmas morning Mickey woke up gradually and slowly, not at all like the jumping-up-in-bed-heart-racing type of way he usually did and the realization made him feel drowsy and warm in a way that wasn’t entire unpleasant. He didn’t move from his position in his bed at first, his muscles too relaxed which was something he wanted to enjoy while it lasted – the next Quidditch match or training was always just around the corner.

Mickey opened his eyes and it was the brightness that hit him first. The windows in the boys’ dormitories weren’t very big so the glaring light was surprising. Rubbing his eyelids, he sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed, his feet dangling. He lifted his head and had to close his eyes again, bright light white from outside assaulting his pupils.

He stood up barely registering the cold ground beneath his feet and his eyes widened in wonder, the Hogwarts grounds white as far as he was able to see. Despite being surrounded by magic every second of his life, this somehow felt more enchanting than watching McGonagall turn into a cat right in front of his eyes. Mickey stepped closer to the window, a handful of stray snowflakes flying by the window and he stared outside, mesmerized by the untouched softness all round him. He couldn’t wait to get outside and maybe get into a snowball fight with those idiotic fourth year Hufflepuffs from last year.

Mickey had to blink a couple of time when he finally tore his eyes away from the picturesque landscape and turned to the other side. His eyebrows rose high on his forehead when he spotted the surprising amount of presents stacked on the floor. Mickey sat down, a grin on his lips, and started unpacking his Christmas presents.

Maybe Christmas was turning into his favorite holiday after all.

\---

After the Christmas feast, which Mickey spent with Mandy and Sully at the Gryffindor table eating as much as he was physically able to, Mickey grabbed his coat and made his way outside to the forest, a napkin full of mince pie in hidden under his coat. He took the path he always took, using a charm to hide his footsteps in the snow, and went deeper into the woods. Thankfully, the snow hadn’t reached the ground of the forest and Mickey had no problems making his way to the clearing the Axelines had taken him on their first encounter.

When he reached the edge of it, he whistled a little melody, taking out the mince pies out of his pocket and he tried to fight a grin when he could already hear the different popping sounds of Apparition. Mickey sank down on a dry piece of ground as the Axelines scurried around him, Alex bumping her nose into his leg repeatedly. He leaned his back against the tree behind him and crossed his legs and Alex took it as her cue to jump into Mickey’s lap and curl up into a white fluffy ball. Mickey really couldn’t remember what exactly had been so scary about them two years ago with one of them purring in his lap and glaring at the other two to defend her place, as if Mickey didn’t have a say in it (he probably didn’t – they were powerful magical creatures after all from what he’d learned from reading up on them and witnessing some of it himself).

“When are we going to get whatever smells so good in your coat pocket?” Brian asked, green eyes staring at Mickey intensely.

“Who says it’s for you?”

“You forget that we _know_ things,” the creature replied, lying his head on top of his crossed paws. Mickey rolled his eyes.

“Mister Milkovich, it does smell really amazing,” Emma chimed in still scurrying around in excitement.

“How often have I told you not to call me-“

“Food,” Alex just said, lifting her head from Mickey’s lap. He knew that the creature was purposely flashing him the pleading puppy dog eyes but Mickey still felt all this (admittedly pretend resistances) crumble away like sand in a hurricane.

“Godric, you’re all so impatient,” Mickey muttered and took out the napkin, giving each of them one mince pies. The speed they ate the pies with was just a little scary.

“Where’s George by the way? Got one for him left.”

The tree Axelines immediately started yelling, trying to talk over each other, and while Mickey didn’t understand a word it didn’t take a genius to figure out that they were trying to get Mickey to give one of them the last mince pie.

“Shut up!” Mickey belted and luckily they listened to him on his first try. He wasn’t always that lucky.

“This one’s for George. End of discussion.”

Suddenly, Mickey heard another plop and he whipped his head around. From his left came the fourth Axeline galloping across the clearing.

“Speaking of the devil,” Alex said, settling back on Mickey’s lap.

George started licking Mickey’s face as soon as he was close enough to do so and Mickey almost fell over, trying to escape the unwelcome welcome.

“Merlin, stop it, George!”

“Sorry for the delay, do I smell mince pie?”

“You really think I’m gonna give it to you after you got your saliva all over me?” Mickey asked, wiping his cheek with the sleeve of his coat.

“Yes,” George replied, a toothy grin on his lips. Mickey muttered a couple of obscenities under his breath and handed the last of the mince pies over to him.

Mickey watched Alex, Brian and Emma watching George as he devoured his portion and Mickey couldn’t help the amused smile spreading on his lips.

“How come you’ve never brought us any of this before?” Emily asked.

“Well, I’m brought some now. Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, Mickey,” all four of them replied and Mickey had never felt as much Christmas cheer before as he did then.

Sitting on the ground, surrounded by four magical creatures that somehow had become his friends over the years, Mickey spend the second half of Christmas day, petting what were essentially oversized, speaking cats. With Alex in his lap and the other three sitting around him it even was warm enough that he didn’t need to cast a heating charm. It definitely wasn’t his worst Christmas ever, not even close.

“Alex, let me up,” Mickey said when he noticed the sun starting to set.

“You’re leaving already?” Alex asked, voice disappointed.

“Yeah, I gotta get back to the castle. Don’t want to be on the other side when they close it again.”

“Since when do you care?” George quipped.

“Since I had detention just last week.”

Alex pouted and Mickey laughed.

“Weren’t you the one who said you never wanted to see him again the first time?” Emma reminded Alex.

“I spoke prematurely.”

As the other Axelines cackled, Mickey stood up smiling, and ran his hand over Alex’s head, warm fur between his fingers impossibly soft.

“I’ll come by again soon.”

“You better. Do you want me to Apparate you back to the castle?”

Mickey tried to hide his surprise at Alex’s statement as best as he could. “Yeah, that’d be-. Sure, thanks.”

Alex just nodded and Mickey turned to the other Axelines and petted them in goodbye before gripping Alex’s fur by her head and the familiar blackness of Apparition engulfed him.

 

**Fourth Year**

“S’it really true what I keep hearing about you?” Ian asked, putting down his Butterbeer and licking the foam off his lips.

“Depends on what you’re hearing,” Mickey replied. He looked around the Three Broomsticks, watching the group of friend walking into the pub and shaking the snow off their coats.

“Did you really hex Jamie Williams because he dragged you out of bed for Quidditch practice?”

“Bastard had it coming, man. It’s a wonder nobody’s done it before. Besides, I was fuckin’ sleeping.”

“He’s your team captain though.”

“Williams knows how I feel about training in the middle of the night, he does that shit on purpose just to piss me off.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, man,” Mickey said, lifting his glass, glancing at Ian who had an amused look on his face, “What?”

Ian shook his head and smiled down at the table.

“Got kicked out of the team though,” Mickey added after a moment

“He kicked you off the team?” Ian ask incredulously, eyebrows drawing together.

“That’s what I literally just said.”

“Damn.”

“Would have left anyway. Got better shit to do than get up at the ass crack of dawn to fly around.”

“Like what? Study for your OWLs?” Ian scoffed.

“Yeah, right. No.”

They both grabbed their glasses and took a last swig of Butterbeer, the liquid warming Mickey up almost as quick as a heating charm would. Nothing could trump Butterbeer on a cold February day. Except maybe Firewhiskey.

“Hey, you wanna go to Zonko’s next?” Ian asked after he finished his drink. “Apparently they have the Bertie Bott’s edition of Sugar Quills and Lip says he had one in ear wax.”

“Bertie Bott’s make Sugar Quills now? Since when?”

“I don’t know, but d’you wanna check them out?”

“Sure, why not? Ear wax Sugar Quills could finally make them interesting.”

As always on Hogsmeade weekends, Zonko’s was packed to the brim. Hogwarts students from all years were bustling about in the shop, checking out various jokes and tricks, and making a lot of noise while doing so. Ian held on to the sleeve of Mickey’s coat in order not to lose him as they squeezed past the crowd of students who had gathered around an employee whose head was missing (or more likely just invisible).

They reached the corner of the shop with the Sugar Quills and the Reusable Hangmen which was empty enough for Ian not to have any excuse to hold onto Mickey anymore. He let go with a slight pang of regret and Mickey, too, found that he suddenly didn’t mind the crowdedness anymore.

Mickey turned towards the shelves and together, Ian and Mickey looked through all the varieties, testing and tasting them, laughing at the other’s face when one of them fell upon a particularly disgusting flavor. After they’d exhausted the Sugar Quills, they moved on to other parts of the shop and looked at the screaming yo-yos, Nose-Biting Teacups, Dungbombs and Fanged Frisbees. Ian practically had to drag Mickey away from the little black Pygmy Puffs.

After what felt like mere minutes instead of hours they left Zonko’s and Mickey lead them to a less crowded part of the village, following a path along the edge of the forest, and they came to a halt when they reached a high chain-link fence. Mickey noticed how Ian hesitated when he gripped the fence but when nothing happened he visibly relaxed and joined Mickey. They both looked fast the fence, into the distance at the little run-down house that looked like the tiniest blow of wind could cause it to collapse.

“Is that the Shrieking Shack?” Ian asked, his voice full of wonder.

“Yeah, that’s the one,” Mickey replied quietly.

“The one where Snape died in during the second Wizarding War, right?”

“No, that was one of the other Shrieking Shacks in Hogsmeade.”

“There are more of them?” Ian aske, raising his eyebrows.

Mickey turned his head. “No, you idiot, there’s only this one.”

“How the hell am I supposed to know, this is my first time in Hogsmeade, remember?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Mickey laughed and fixed his gaze back towards the old cottage.

“My dad always said Snape was his favorite teacher,” Mickey said after a moment of silence, still looking past the fence into the distance. His eyes were going out of focus as Terry’s anger-ridden words echoed in his head. The words were so clear and present Mickey looked behind them just to make sure that it was still just in his head.

“Your dad’s weird,” Ian replied

“I guess,” Mickey replied, his fingers tightening around the metal. They fell silent again.

“Come on, let’s go back to the castle. I’m pretty sure my feet are icicles by now,” Ian said, turning towards Mickey and stomping his feet once for show.

“Me too,” Mickey replied, tearing his gaze away from the Shack and towards Ian, “and I don’t know any heating charms yet.”

“Me neither,” Ian grinned and they both started walking.  

\---

Mickey looked at the gargoyle that marked the entrance to the Headmaster’s office, waiting for McGonagall to arrive. It was an ugly thing, really, just like any other gargoyle in the castle, maybe only a little bigger and pompous, so he didn’t spend too much time dwelling on why anybody would have that kind of thing in front of their office. He shuffled his feet as the minutes trickled by, annoyed about having to be here and wasting time he could spend otherwise.

“What’re you gonna think she’s gonna have us do?” Sully asked next to him.

“How the fuck should I know?” Mickey brushed him off, turning around and leaning against the wall.

Suddenly, the gargoyle started turning around and both Mickey and Sully stood up straighter and Professor McGonagall came into view, holding a clipboard and wearing a serious expression. Much like she always did, Mickey thought.

“Mister Milkovich and Mister Sullivan, please follow me.”

Not even Sully dared to speak as they followed McGonagall down the hall and up the staircase to the next floor. McGonagall waved her wand in front of a dark wooden door at the end of the hall and she stepped aside to let Mickey and Sully in. the most significant thing about the room was the sheer amount of boxes that were stacked from ceiling to floor covering all four walls and one simple desk and chair standing in the middle of the room. Mickey fought not to sigh loudly. Whatever they were going to have to do would probably be detail-oriented and absolutely boring.

“This is Mr. Filch’s old office,” McGonagall’s voice came from behind them, “and in all these boxes you will find all the files he kept on every student and their misdemeanors. Start arranging them alphabetically. I think that will occupy you for a reasonable amount of time.”

“Professor, can’t we just write lines or something?” Sully asked still staring at the boxes and Mickey rolled his eyes.

“I’m afraid that is not possible Mister Sullivan. Now get to work I’ll have someone fetch you in two hours.” With that she turned, closed the door behind her and disappeared.

“Mick, please tell me you know a spell that can do this shit.”

“Sully,” Mickey said, rubbing his forehead, “I don’t know a spell that can do this shit.”

“Man, we are so fucked, Mick. Sorry for dragging you into this.”

“Not just your fault,” Mickey said and taking a seat in the chair.

“Still I convinced you to come with me to-“

“Sully, just shut the hell up.”

 

**Fifth Year**

“What the hell are those?” Ian asked, confusion deeply etched on his face as they both looked at the clearing in the forest.

“Axelines,” Mickey replied, watching Ian’s face in amusement.

“Axe- what?”

“I just told you they’re-“

“I thought they were extinct!”

“I guess then you have to decide between believing your eyes, or giving me some mad kudos for this illusion charm.”

“You’re shit in charms. What did Professor Flitwick call you the other week?”

“I’m ‘more useless than Crumple-Horned Snorkacks with a wand’,” Mickey recalled and they both laughed at Mickey’s poor imitation of Flitwick’s voice.

Mickey glanced back at the clearing and now all four Axelines were standing up, their heads turned towards where he and Ian were hiding behind a tree. Since there was no use in hiding anymore Mickey stepped forward from behind the thick trunk and the small herd visibly relaxed when they recognized him.

“Hey,” Mickey yelled, Ian next to him but still hidden.

A chorus of ‘Mickey!’s rained down as the four of them bounded over to where Mickey and Ian were standing.

“You can come out, Ian.”

“Mick, are you sure? They seem very-“ Ian didn’t finish his sentence because Mickey grabbed his arm and pulled him. Ian stumbled towards Mickey but caught his balance again, looking positively frightened at the sight of magical creatures coming straight towards them.

All four of them immediately stopped in their tracks when they saw Ian and Alex’s fluffy white fur turned black as she ducked, teeth fletching and ready to attack.

“Alex, calm down!” Mickey said, taking one step closer.

“Alex?” Ian asked, his voice higher than usual from panic.

“Yeah, that’s her name,” Mickey said over his shoulder.

“You named them?”

“Nah man, they told me.”

“They all look exactly the same how the fuck do you tell them apart?”

“They don’t look the same, man look, it’s easy that in the front freaking out is Alex and behind her-“

“Mickey,” Alex growled, her voice much deeper than usual – so much so that Mickey himself shivered.

“Alex, he’s a friend okay? I like him, no need for you to throw a fit. He’s not dangerous.”

Alex narrowed her eyes at Ian but slowly she turned back into the white version of herself. She pointedly ignored as she walked towards Mickey and he lifted his hand to pet her behind the ears just like he always would.

“Ian, these are Alex, Emma, Brian and George. Met them in first year on one of my Forbidden Forest trips and kinda became friends.”

“You’re friends with wild magical creatures?” Ian asked, incredibility thick in his voice. Mickey cured under his breath and seriously second guessed bringing Ian here.

Alex and Emma both turned their heads and hissed at Ian sharply, fletching their teeth. Ian’s eyes widened and he took a step back, almost falling over the root of a tree.

Mickey raised his hand placatingly. “It’s alright, he’s okay, he’s a friend remember?”

Emma calmed down before Alex did but eventually, Ian and Mickey sat down on the grass of the clearing and the creatures settled around them comfortably, except Alex who was lying right next to Mickey’s legs and who threw suspicious glances Ian’s way in frequent intervals.

“Why do they have normal people names?” Ian whispered, leaning close to Mickey, as if that would keep the Axelines form understanding him.

“Can you stop saying shit like that?” Mickey asked, not ready to avert another impending fight.

“What? You’re gonna tell me I hurt their feelings next?”

“Ian Gallagher, shut your damn mouth,” Alex chimed in, her eyes still closed and both Ian and Mickey’s mouths fell open and they shared a glance, their faces conveying equal surprise.

Ian seemed to have been sufficiently chastised and closed his mouth. He looked at Mickey incredulously and shook his head but Mickey didn’t pay him much heed when Alex, lay her head on Mickey’s thigh and started purring.

“Any mince pies?” Emily asked suddenly and Mickey belted out a laugh.

“It’s _May_ , Emma, I told you that’s Christmas food.”

\---

The library was quiet but busy this Wednesday afternoon and the sun illuminated the parchment on Mickey’s desk. He’d spent the last two hours holed up in the library, trying to memorize five years’ worth of material. The library was filled with five years of all houses, all of them all too aware that the OWLs were coming up soon and their professors all too happy to point out at every opportunity.

Despite having read the same sentence four times now, Mickey still jumped when suddenly someone plopped down in the chair next to him.

“Mick, you gotta help me with DADA,” Sully sighed, sinking deep into the library chair.

“Hello to you too, asshat.”

“So, Defense Against Dark Arts? You’re good at it. Help me.”

“Anything to get away from this Charms bullshit,” Mickey said, pushing the rolls of parchment away from him, “I’d rather deal with the Snorkacks again than try to memorize all those dumb wand movements.”

“Don’t let Flitwick hear you,” Sully joked.

“Not like he’s hiding around here.”

“How would you know, he’s small enough to hide anywhere.”

Mickey chuckled and went back to the copies of someone’s Charms notes with better handwriting and work ethic than him.

“Man, the OWLs are going to kill me.”

“Just shut up man I don’t wanna have Pince throw us out.”

“Dude, why is it always you telling me to shut up?”

Mickey’s eyebrows shot up. “Because you’re always talking, Sully. You never shut up.”

Both their heads whirled around when they head someone loudly clear their throat and Mickey looked at Sully, raising his eyebrow.

 

**Sixth Year**

The Great Hall was unusually quiet considering it was dinner time on a Friday night. Not many students were sitting at the long tables Still, Mickey didn’t notice the arrival of a lone owl flying into the Great Hall and was taken by utter surprise when he suddenly heard a whooshing sound and felt something heavy on Mickey shoulder and he jumped so hard that his fork fell out of his hand. He whipped his head around quickly, his heart racing and his whole body tense. When he finally spotted what had caused the disturbance, it took him a minute to make sense of it. A dirty brown owl was sitting on the floor, a piece of parchment attached to its leg and feathers sticking into several directions. It must have been one of the old school owls.

Two first years sitting three spots down from Mickey had apparently witnessed the ruckus and rushed over to the owl. One of them looked as worried as if it was their own child who just did a crash landing, and the other one looked around the Great Hall frantically, seemingly looking for some sort of figure of authority. Guessing by the way the owl had landed on him, Mickey reluctantly got out of his seat to fetch whatever the owl was supposed to deliver.

“Is there someone called Mickey around?” one of the first years shouted and Mickey rolled his eyes.

“Gimme that,” Mickey barked and took the parchment out of the kid’s hand before sitting back down.

The folded piece of parchment said _Mickey_ on one side in a familiar scrawl and he sighed before opening the letter.

_Meet me at the entrance to the Great Hall tonight at the usual time? – Ian_

Mickey looked up from the piece of parchment in his hands to the Slytherin table across the hall, his eyes searching for Ian but no matter how often he scanned his eyes up and down the table, Ian was nowhere to be found. Just to be sure he checked the entrance to the Great Hall and the Gryffindor table too, but to no avail.

Finishing the rest of his food, Mickey tried not to wonder about what the occasion for Ian’s note was. It wasn’t unusual for them to meet up after hours and to sneak out of the castle together, but those were rather spontaneous trips that didn’t warrant a letter delivered by owl. He really couldn’t help but try to think of reasons for Ian’s formality.

Mickey left the Great Hall, the piece of parchment clutched in his right hand, and he made his way up to Gryffindor tower. It was a Friday night so the looming dread of unfinished homework was easy to ignore for now so he sat in the common room on a couch in front of the fire. A pair of first years approached the prized seats five minutes after Mickey settled and they moved to sit down at the unoccupied end, but one glare and they were dealt with. He relaxed back into the cushions, stretched his legs out on the couch, and closed his eyes.

Only a handful of minutes later he was interrupted again.

“Yo, Milkovich,” a voice called from the other side.

“What do you want, Bradshaw?” Mickey asked, barely suppressing the groan of annoyance.

Emily Bradshaw was his partner in Care of Magical Creatures and she was okay to have around most of the time, but she was not someone whose presence Mickey could endure for an extended period of time. She swiftly grabbed Mickey’s legs and moved them and dropped them on the floor so she would have room to sit. Mickey rolled his eyes but left it be, the idea of company to pass the time not sounding like a bad one.

“Why would I want anything? I’m being a friend and checking on you.”

“You saw me yesterday, though.”

“So?”

Mickey shrugged in response.

They sat there in silence, Mickey mindlessly staring into the fire just to pass the time, but no matter how much he tried to ignore it, he still could feel her eyes on him. This definitely wasn’t a social visit.

“Seriously, you’re creeping me out, what do you want?”

“What are you writing your essay on?”

Mickey scoffed. “I’m not telling you, princess.”

“Come on, Mickey. Professor Hagrid loves your fucking essays and I have no idea what to write mine about. If we both write about the same thing each one of us only had to do half as much work!”

“You mean let me do all the work?” Mickey scoffed.

“I promise, Mickey, I’ll do my share. I’ll go to the library right now.”

Mickey laughed. “You? In the library on a Friday night?”

Emily flinched. “Okay, I’ll give you that,” she replied and sighed. “Worth a try.”

Mickey threw her a glance and saw her smiling sheepishly. He shook his head. She wasn’t even half as funny as she thought she was.

“Milkovich, what did you think about the sausages tonight at dinner?”

“Okay, I’m out,” Mickey protested. Food was never a good topic for them – nobody could really explain how, but they always managed to get into whole-blown fights over it.

“I won’t argue this time, I promise,” Bradshaw insisted but Mickey could hear the repressed laughter in her voice.

“I don’t have time for this, so you can leave now.”

“You don’t look busy,” she replied, an amused grin on her lips, “talk food to me.”

“I’m leaving now, just for your information.”

“Where are you going? You got a date with Gallagher?”

“I fucking do not.” He stood up, not entertaining this any longer, and walked towards the staircase leading up the boys’ dormitories.

“Tell him I said hi!”

Mickey flipped her off over his shoulder and heard her faint chuckle as he left the common room. He ascended the stairs quickly and didn’t stay in the dorm for longer than it took him to grab his coat and scarf. Crossing the common room he spied Bradshaw, still sitting where he left her, the two first years from earlier sitting next to her this time.

Having done his homework, Mickey knew which Prefect was patrolling which corridor tonight and he quickly mapped a route in his head that would lead him down to the Great Hall without being caught. The way down was over faster than most people could say ‘Quidditch’.

He walked down the grand staircase quickly and the farther down he got, the brighter the light of the torches lined up along the wall became. He murmured a quick “Nox” and tucked his wand away when he reached the last step and he spotted Ian right as he turned the corner towards the Great Hall.

“Hey,” Mickey greeted.

“Hey, Mick.” Ian smiled.

“Where we going?”

“It’s a surprise, Mick, I’m not telling.”

Mickey sighed deeply and theatrically, but couldn’t help the smile that betrayed him.

“Drama queen,” Ian whispered, grinning wildly, and grabbed Mickey’s elbow before continuing in his normal voice, “come on.”

It was dark outside, the snow-silky landscape of the Hogwarts grounds illuminated by the shine of the almost full moon. Light and delicate snowflakes fell down on both of them, melting when they landed on Mickey’s cheeks and turning into tiny drops of water. The clouds in the sky were scattered, torn apart by moonbeams and a cold breeze of air.

The snow crunched beneath their feet as they stepped outside of the castle and before Mickey could complain, Ian cast a Warming Shield around both of them, effectively protecting them from the biting wind. Then he whispered “Lumos” and kept his wand low, so they wouldn’t draw much attention to themselves if someone happened to look outside. With every step that Mickey followed Ian’s lead, he got more and more curious about what the hell Ian was up to, especially since they were outside. If Ian thought they could fly a couple of rounds on their brooms in this cold, Mickey would hex him into next week.

They passed the Whomping Willow and walked along the line of leafless trees that marked the beginning of the Forbidden Forest, heading towards the lake. The frozen surface was glittering softly from the moonlight, and for a second Mickey asked himself what the giant squid living in the lake was doing right now. Probably hibernating.

Ian finally came to a stop right by the shoreline of the lake and turned, looking at Mickey, his cheeks rosy and the tip of his nose red despite the Warming Shield, and Mickey asked himself if Ian really had  extended the Warming Shield over himself as well or it he’d been shielding Mickey only the entire time. Mickey’s stomach fluttered.

“What now?” Mickey prompted when Ian didn’t speak, his anticipation and unknowingness slowly grating on his nerves and making him jumpy.

“Wait,” was all Ian said, a smile on his lips. He carefully stepped on the iced surface of the lake, hands stretched out to catch himself just in case. When he was standing there with both feet, he pointed his want at his shoes and mumbled something Mickey couldn’t quite hear. Ian’s shoes transformed and it took Mickey a second to realize that Ian now had ice skates on his feet.

“No,” Mickey said immediately, and took a step back.

“Come on, it’s fun,” Ian simply replied. Before Mickey could protest any further, Ian was off.

Mickey watched as Ian slid along the ice, first backwards to keep his eyes on Mickey, then he turned and circled on the ice in wide strides. It looked smooth and almost elegant, evidently not Ian’s first time on the ice. He kept going for a handful of moments before he came to a halt where Mickey stood nervously.

Ian looked at him expectantly an open smile on his face

“I’ve never – “ Mickey said, biting his bottom lip, and waving his hands towards the lake, “you know.”

“You’ve never been ice skating?” Ian asked, and he sounded just as scandalized as if Mickey had just confessed to a murder.

“Where the fuck is the fun in fumbling around on frozen water and eventually falling on your face?”

“Come on, I’ll teach you how to do it properly so you don’t fall on your pretty face.”

“I don’t wanna learn, Gallagher.”

“I _promise_ you it’s going to be fun, Mick.”

“You gonna carry me up to the hospital wing and explain this to Madame Pomfrey if I break my leg then?”

“You won’t break your leg.”

Mickey only narrowed his eyes at him and cocked his head. “Do you know what Skele-Gro tastes and feels like, Gallagher?”

“Merlin, okay, yes I will. Happy now?”

“Ecstatic.”

“Alright then,” Ian said, sliding a little closer and offering his hand for Mickey to take.

Mickey eyed the hand for a second, his pulse accelerating marginally, and he took a breath to steady himself before gripping Ian’s hand and stepping on the ice. With his free hand, Ian reached for his wand and transformed Mickey’s shoes as well, tucked his wand away again.

Mickey carefully moved one foot on the ice and while he did expect it, it still caught him by surprise how slippery exactly the ground beneath his feet was. His hold on Ian’s hand tightened, eyes trained on his feet as he concentrated on not falling over and making a fool out of himself.

When he stood as securely as he could on ice, Mickey looked up at Ian. The green scarf around his neck had always complemented Ian’ eyes very well and right now the moonlight only pointed it out more, drawing Mickey’s attention. Their eyes met and Mickey became all too aware of the fact that they were effectively holding hands, but he found himself unwilling to let go.

“What?” Ian asked.

Mickey cleared his throat before speaking. “You said you’d teach me.”

“Right,” Ian said, his expression growing more serious, “it’s really easy once you get the hang of it. I’ll show you.”

Ian grabbed Mickey’s other hand too and started skating backwards, pulling Mickey along. This, Mickey hadn’t been prepared for and the only thing keeping him from losing his balance entirely were Ian’s hands, clutching tightly. Ian stopped and came to a halt again, chuckling.

“You are such an ass,” Mickey grinned.

“Sorry,” Ian laughed. “Look, just move your feet in diagonal lines. Like this.”

He mimicked the movements Ian was showing him, feet unsteady and hands gripping Ian’s like a lifeline. Slowly but surely, Mickey was pleased to find that he was getting used to moving along the ice, his legs not trembling anymore, his body coordination and muscles learning quickly what they had to do. He took up a little speed and a grin started spreading on his face that he couldn’t stop, the feeling exhilarating in a way that flying was, a new skill he seemed to have mastered quicker than he’d expected.

However, Mickey apparently grew too enthusiastic at his success. With the next glide, the front of his right foot hit the back of his left one and Mickey wobbled dangerously, legs and arms flailing wildly, his torso leaning forward and he almost bumped his head against Ian’s. Before anything serious could happen, however, strong arms wrapped around him and steadied him. Mickey took a deep breath.

“Got you,” Ian whispered right next to Mickey’s ear, his warm breath casting goosebumps on Mickey’s skin. The sensation started a chain reaction in him, the goosebumps spreading on what felt like Mickey’s entire body, a prickling feeling seeping from his skin into his muscles, shocks of electricity making his heart flutter and locking his bones into place. Mickey felt frozen, unable but also unwilling to pull away.

There was an undercurrent to the moment, something he couldn’t pinpoint, and nothing he could properly describe with words. All he knew was that he didn’t want to resist anymore.

Mickey pulled his head back so he could look at Ian. Their faces were as close as they’d never been before and it almost felt like there was a physical pull between them. Ian’s eyes were slightly glassy and wide, his lips parted and cheeks still rosy. Their eyes met and everything around them and between them started feeling delicate, tentative, intense. Mickey thought he should probably pull away, go back to pretending this was about ice skating and not as close as they had ever come to going on an actual date. He couldn’t break the eye contact with Ian though and the longer it lasted, the less he wanted to go back to how it had been before, and without being able to tell who exactly it was that closed the distance between them, their lips connected.

The kiss was tentative and chaste, something barely there before it was gone again, but Mickey didn’t want it gone so he chased it. He lifted one of his hands and rested it at the back of Ian’s head, pulling him in. The contact was much more satisfying now, more pressure, a deeper connection, a bigger revelation.

Finally getting to kiss Ian sent the adrenaline rushing through his blood, and he felt light-headed, overwhelmed and absolutely addicted. He was craving more of it, but when he changed the position of his arms around Ian to pull him closer somehow, he was reminded again where they were, his feet moving without Mickey intending them to and he once again almost lost his balance. Just as he did before, Ian steadied him and Mickey breathed a shaky laugh. Ian rested their foreheads against each other, both of them chuckling and smiling brightly, their hot breaths turning into white mist around their heads, the moon shining down on them with all her might.

\---

Mickey found her in an empty classroom on the sixth floor, the one with the unusually big windows from which you could overlook almost the entire Hogwarts area. There was the forest, a fresh spring-green now that the snow had melted and the temperatures were rising steadily. The lake, black as always, quiet and deep, reflecting the dense blanket of clouds in the sky. Even the Quidditch pitch came into view if you stood at the very left in the row of windows, the Slytherin team currently using it for practice.

Mandy’s head snapped towards the door when Mickey opened it, her eyes growing wide in surprise. She was sitting at the back corner of the empty classroom, comfortable-looking cushions on the walls behind her back and under her. She quickly turned her head back to stare out the window, but Mickey had already seen her face, eyes tired and weary.

He sat down next to her, the cushions even more comfortable than they’d appeared to be. He understood why she came here when she was upset.

“The fuck do you want, shithead?” Anger had replaced the earlier expression on Mandy’s face.

“Nothing,” Mickey replied, shrugging, his sister looking at his suspiciously, but she let it go after a moment.

They sat in neutral silence as a strong wind blew around the castle, trees bending and clouds racing. Finding Mandy was the easy part, the hard part was always figuring out what he was supposed to do afterwards.

Mickey reached into his pocket, retrieving one of the joints he’d acquired the last time he’s ventured into the Muggle part of town, and offered it to her. Mandy took it and looked at it more closely.

“The fuck’s this?”

“Muggle drugs.”

“Where’d you get this?”

“Got some over Christmas break. Not as strong as our stuff but it’ll do.”

Mandy huffed a humorless laugh. “Imagine what Dad would say.”

“Well,” Mickey said, leaning his head back against the wall, “good thing he’s in Azkaban.”

“Yeah,” Mandy whispered, putting the joint between her lips, reaching for her wand to ignite it. Mickey watched her inhale the smoke deeply and close her eyes. A moment later she handed it back and so they shared the weed between them.

They smoked silently, listening to the wind whistling outside and taking turns hexing the smoke into different shapes and animations. Horses racing over a field, a house elf, the mountains and the forest, Hogwarts. Eventually, Mandy put it out on the floor, exhaling the last of the smoke.

Mickey stood up a little clumsily and reached his hand out for Mandy to take. “I’m gonna go down to the kitchens, you wanna come? I’m starving.”

Mandy smiled and took his hand, pulling her up and throwing one last glance out the window. She closed the door quietly behind them, whispering an “Alohomora” before they made their way to the fourth floor.

 

** Seventh Year **

The steady rattling of the Hogwarts Express was trying to pull Mickey closer and closer to sleep, it seemed. He tried to fight it, not wanting to waste his last train ride with sleep, but he was powerless against the pull against his eyes. Not even Hogwarts’ excellent coffee had been able to help this morning.

“Aw, Grandpa Mickey needs his afternoon nap,” Mandy teased and the other four people in the compartment started laughing loud enough to jostle Mickey fully awake.

“Godric, shut up,” Mickey grumbled but he sat up straighter.

“You really never miss an opportunity to remind me we’re not in the same house, don’t you?”

“Better watch it, Mands,” Sully quipped from next to Mickey and waved his hand around, “you two snakeheads are outnumbered.”

Sully and Mandy got into the same old argument of Slytherin versus Gryffindor that Mickey had had to listen to way too many times by now, so he tuned them out as much as he could and turned his head to look out of the window. Barren mountains, fields of green and yellow, dark blue lakes and white skies all rushing past them in ever-changing combinations. Mickey’s breath fogged up the glass until he could only see vague colors behind it and he lost himself in it, the impressions creating white noise in his mind, soothing him a little.  He hadn’t slept much last night and in adding in the countless of short nights during the last few weeks it was a wonder Mickey was upright at all.

When he noticed that his eyes were staring into nothingness and the fog on the window was gone, he shifted his attention to his friends around him still talking and laughing loudly.

Sully was sitting to Mickey’s right, the mischievous smirk on his lips that never really disappeared, gesturing animatedly while telling a story Mickey wasn’t paying any attention to. Next to Sully sat Emily, her head resting on Sully’s shoulder while Sully’s right arm rested around hers. Watching them, Mickey asked himself how she managed to keep it there though, since Sully didn’t stop his gesturing and her head constantly bobbed up and down with the movement of his arms. Maybe a sticking charm, Mickey mused and suppressed a smirk at the thought of them being stuck together that way.

Mandy was sitting opposite of Sully, hanging on his lips like almost everybody did who got the pleasure of discovering what a good storyteller Sully was. That fact was half the reason Mickey had managed to pass most of the History of Magic classes since Sully managed to make everything sound a thousand times more interesting than any professor or book.

Lastly, Mickey’s eyes landed on Ian who apparently had been watching him the entire time. Mickey thought he saw an expression of worry sweep over Ian’s face, but it was gone before he could be sure, a fond smile replacing the expression.

“Anything off the trolley, dears?” came a sweet voice from outside and suddenly the entire compartment was moving, scrambling for money.

Mickey got up before anybody else could and crossed the path of legs and trunks on the floor of the compartment. Between his index and middle finger, he held up the only Galleon that’s ever been in his possession and that he’s been carrying around with him for years. It seemed oddly fitting to him to finally spend it now.

“I’m buyin’,” Mickey said and he blushed when Sully, Ian, Mandy and Emily started cheering loudly.

Mickey turned to the trolley with who was smiling at him. “A little of everything, please.”

Five minutes later, the empty seat next to Mandy was overflowing with empty packages and other kinds of trash, everybody happily munching on Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans, Pumpkin Pasties, Jelly Slugs, Chocolate Frogs or Cauldron Cakes. Mickey had bought himself some of Drooble’s Best Blowing Gum and was about to break his own record in blowing the biggest bubble, when Ian snatched the package in Mickey’s moment of weakness. Motherfucker. Ian of all people should know better.

After Mickey hexed Ian’s lips shut for a minute in retribution, they proceeded to have a bubblegum blowing contest with their friends as judges and Mickey was pleased about winning all three rounds.

The compartment grew quieter as their journey continued, sated stomachs making their eyelids heavy, and heads heavier. Ian fell asleep soon after their contest along with everyone else, and Mickey took the opportunity to watch the warm evening sun skip across Ian’s sleeping cheeks. Affection welled up from Mickey’s stomach into his chest in waves and he felt his cheeks heat up. Smiling, he turned his head to look out of the window, but there he was met with Ian’s reflection and so Mickey settled for switching between the two pictures, his earlier tiredness not as pressing as earlier.

Ian woke up again a short time later, everyone else still asleep, looking soft and sleepy but awake. Mickey knew that this was something Ian could do – take a nap for only twenty minutes and be completely fine and refreshed afterwards – but he still couldn’t really wrap his head around it. It took Mickey that long to fall asleep in the first place and there Ian was fitting an entire nap into the same amount of time.

They locked eyes, Ian studying him intensely, a questioning look on his face, and Mickey raised his eyebrows in response.

“You okay?” Ian asked, his voice sleep-ridden.

“Yeah,” Mickey replied despite the nervous ball in his stomach he’d been carrying around all day.

“Yeah?”

“’Course.”

Ian moved forward in his seat, careful not to wake a sleeping Mandy next to him, and gestured for Mickey to do the same. Their knees were almost touching now and Mickey could feel Ian’s soft breath against his chin, the low sun streaming in through the window letting Ian’s face appear softer, his hair redder and his eyes greener.

“Good,” Ian whispered and leaned closer, bumping their noses together affectionately before connecting their lips.

Mickey knew that Ian could see right through him and that there was no use in lying to him, really, but the kiss was comforting so Mickey didn’t dwell on it, but instead responded hungrily. He placed his hand on the side of Ian’s face and rubbed along Ian’s cheek bones absentmindedly while his lips basked in the softness of Ian’s.

“Ah, here you are, dear brother,” a familiar voice swept in through the closed compartment door and Mickey broke away from Ian, rolling his eyes.

“Hey, Lip,” Ian greeted as his brother opened the door and glanced around.

“Did you give them sleeping draught so you can make out in peace? Kinky, Mickey.”

“Fuck off, dickface,” Mickey replied.

“Always a pleasure, Milkovich,” Lip replied and mockingly took a bow in Mickey’s direction.

“What’s up?”

“Debbie and Carl are sitting in the first wagon so let’s meet up at the front on the platform?”

“Sure thing,” Ian replied,

“Great. I’ll let you get back to it now.”

Ian waved goodbye to Lip while Mickey flipped him off.

Mickey was about to lean in again to get back to kissing Ian, but apparently their moment of privacy was now definitely over.

“Was that Lip?” Mandy grumbled, rapidly blinking her eyes open and bringing up her hand to shield her eyes from the low sun.

“Who the fuck else?” Mickey muttered lowly, but Ian still heard it which earned Mickey a side glance Mickey pointedly ignored.

“Knew it. My Bullshit-o-meter is never wrong.” She sat up straight in her seat and stretched her arms above her head, yawning.

After Mandy woke up it didn’t take long for Sully and Emily to wake too, and soon the compartment was filled with conversation and laughter again. The sun was travelling lower and lower on the firmament as their journey went on, sunrays turning from orange to pink slowly. They changed into Muggle clothing, ate the last of the snacks Mickey had bought, and with every passing minute Mickey felt his heart grow heavier in his chest.

Much sooner than he wanted, his last journey with the Hogwarts Express came to an end.

Now that they were outside of Hogwarts grounds, Mickey and Sully were the only ones allowed to use magic so they charmed all five trunks and levitated them off the train until they were standing neatly at the side wall of the train station building.

“I’ll go look for Fiona, see you in five minutes?” Ian asked as he grabbed his own trunk.

“See you.” Mickey nodded and Ian walked off to the part of the platform where the locomotive was blowing white steam into the sky.

The platform was busy, full of people walking into different directions, bumping into each other and letting out screams of excitement at being reunited with family and friends they haven’t seen since Christmas. There wasn’t a real other option than to wait it out, Mickey figured, and leaned against the wall, keeping an eye on the two trunks and watching the crowd thin out, people either Disapparating or using the Floo Network.

After about five minutes, Mickey found himself face to face with Sully who had a bright grin on his face.

Sully held out his hand, his grip hard when Mickey took it, and before Mickey could squeeze back Sully pulled him into a hug, his hand patting Mickey’s back. It only lasted a couple of seconds before Sully broke me away again.

“Don’t disappear on me Milkovich, understand?” Sully said, his index finger pointing at Mickey accusingly.

“Yeah, yeah, I won’t.”

“I’m serious, I’m gonna make you puke slugs for a week if I don’t hear anything from you soon,” raising his eyebrows in what Mickey thought was supposed to be seriousness. Mickey laughed.

“You always were a big talker, Sully,” Mickey dismissed, grinning brightly.

“Not true man, remember third year?” Sully winked.

Mickey doubted he would ever forget third year. “That was one time.”

“And the whole school saw it. Don’t forget that part.”

“Alright, shithead, I’ll give you that one.”

“Man, I’m gonna miss us starting shit together,” Sully said wistfully, staring into the distance.

“I’m not gonna miss detention with you, that’s for sure,” Mickey replied. Sully turned his head back, grinning widely.

“See you around, Mickey.” Sully saluted Mickey and turned around, walking towards one of the three fireplaces on the end of the platform connected to the Floo Network. Mickey watched until he saw Sully step into the green flames and then he was gone.

Emily found him quickly after Sully had left, smiling but trying her best to prevent herself from crying. She wasn’t too successful. He nodded or waved at faces he recognized as they walked by and looked for Mandy or Ian with the other eye. The platform was significantly less busy now and Mickey realized that the majority of people who were still lingering around were students from his year, all standing in circles with their families and friends, talking and laughing, parents in wizarding robes beaming proudly, owls hooting loudly, friends exchanging words of promise.

“Mick, you done?” Mandy asked suddenly, jolting Mickey out of the moment, looking annoyed at the hold-up as if she wasn’t usually the one to cause them.

Mickey was about to reply when he spotted Ian in the crowd of people, looking at Mickey expectantly with wide eyes and he sighed as Mickey felt his heart pound harder in his chest.

Mandy turned to check what he was looking at and groaned.

“Fine, go say goodbye to him but I’m not waiting much longer, assface. Hurry up.”

Mickey walked over to where Ian was standing next to all the other Gallaghers and was greeted by a chorus of “Hey Mickey”s and a short but strong hug from Fiona.

“All good, kiddo?” Fiona asked, grinning brightly.

“Fine,” Mickey answered, “all good.”

“Glad to hear. Haven’t seen you in a year, how’s-“

“Fiona-“ Ian interrupted impatiently and Mickey felt a pang of gratefulness.

“Okay, okay, I’ll leave you two to it,” Fiona said, waving her hands around and ushering everybody away. “Ian we’ll meet you at the north entrance?”

“Yeah, meet you there Fi.” Ian waived and turned back to Mickey.

Before either Mickey or Ian could open their mouths they were interrupted once again.

“Mickey?” Lip called and when Mickey turned around he saw him walking in their direction.

“What?” Mickey snapped, annoyed that he still wasn’t alone with Ian.

Lip stopped in front of Mickey and put his hand on Mickey’s shoulder, squeezing it.

“Take care, man,” Lip said, looking him in the eyes, and Mickey was surprised not to find any mocking intentions in them.

Mickey glanced at the hand on his shoulder and he scratched his upper lip with his thumb, unsure where to look. “You too, I guess.”

Lip nodded and turned around, jogging to catch up with Fiona, Debbie and Carl.

“… Okay,” Ian said, an amused smile on his lips.

“I know,” Mickey replied, shaking his head, brushing it off.

They walked a few steps away from where they’d been standing, a pillar granting them a little privacy, and stood opposite of each other.

“So?” Ian started, running his hand over his hair.

“So …” Mickey said, not really knowing where to look and at a loss of words.

There was a second of slightly uncomfortable silence, but it disappeared when their eyes locked and both started laughing. Right then every other noise or person around them faded out and away, the world singling in on the other.

Ian pulled him into his arms then and Mickey wrapped his arms around him with just as much force, both of them wanting to prolong the moment of goodbye, pretend it wasn’t as close as it really was.

“I’ll miss you,” Ian murmured against Mickey’s skin and gripped a little tighter.

“You’re gonna see me in two weeks,” Mickey replied weakly, a shiver running down his back from where Ian had placed his lips.

“Too long,” Ian sighed, “and I’ll miss you next year, is what I meant.”

Mickey inhaled Ian’s scent deeply before he replied. “I’ll miss you too.”

They continued to stay there, arms wrapped around each other. Mickey had no feeling of time or place, really, the comfort of smelling and feeling Ian completely distracting him from everything else. He savored the moment even though he didn’t want to, the implication of the act not something he wanted to think about, but still trying to commit as many details as possible to memory. The texture of Ian’s hair under Mickey’s fingers, warm huffs of breath on his neck, lips occasionally pressing against the skin at the curve of his neck. Content. Mickey didn’t want to move.

“We probably look ridiculous, but I don’t wanna let go.” Ian said, trying to tighten his grip around Mickey even more and placing another kiss on the exposed skin of Mickey’s shoulder.

Mickey clenched his eyes shut. It was hard, but he broke away from Ian even though he still didn’t let go completely. He rested one hand on Ian’s shoulder and the other one on the side of his face, his thumb automatically rubbing along Ian’s cheekbone.

“I’ll write you,” Mickey said quietly, still looking Ian in the eyes to let him know he meant it.

“Every day?” Ian asked, one corner of his mouth pulling up.

Mickey cocked his head to the side, narrowing his eyes. “Don’t push your luck, freckles.”

Ian chuckled, leaning his forehead against Mickey’s, wishing there was a spell to slow down time so this moment didn’t have to end. There was no spell though, no magic to help them out this time, goodbye was inevitable, knocking on their door persistently.

Mickey did the only thing he could and tipped his head, connecting their lips.

It started with a short peck, a lingering and slow touch of lips, and it continued with a real kiss, one that took Mickey under like a tidal wave. His skin felt tingly and alert where Ian touched him, the rush of it running into his bloodstream, pleasant warmth filling his gut. Mickey’s finer tightened around the back of Ian’s head.

The kiss was reminiscent of their first one, sweet and tender, slow and soft, and the thought made Mickey smile against Ian’s lips.+

A loud whistle from the locomotive startled them both and they jumped apart, Mickey’s hand already on his wand. It took a second to properly register that it had just been the train, but his heart was racing despite the lack of danger to him or Ian.

“Merlin’s beard,” they said simultaneously, turning their gazes back to each other, a chuckle escaping them. Mickey leaned his forehead back against Ian’s, slipping back into the moment easily.

“I love you,” Ian said after a beat of silence.

“Love you too,” Mickey replied, his voice trembling slightly.

“Two weeks,” Ian said, sounding like he was trying to convince himself just as much as Mickey. “Two weeks and then …” Mickey moved to look at Ian and saw his Adam’s apple bob, swallowing thickly.

“Let’s cross that bridge when we come to it.”

“Good plan.”

Ian tried to smile, but he didn’t really succeed, eyes more than a little wet as he stared back at Mickey. Doubting he looked any better, Mickey averted his eyes to the ground, shuffling his feet. Ian’s face was a perfect mirror into Mickey’s insides and somehow it doubled every emotion raging inside his chest already, intensifying the whirlwind he felt inside. Taking a deep breath, he looked up again and Ian wasted no time with placing a kiss on Mickey’s forehead.

“My family’s waiting for me,” Ian murmured as they stared at each other.

“Yeah, we should get going,” Mickey replied reluctantly.

They walked back around the pillar, their fingers brushing and Mickey decided to follow the impulse and tentatively took Ian’s hand, entwining their fingers. He noticed Ian throwing him a glance, but all Mickey did in response was smiling at the ground and squeezing Ian’s fingers. It didn’t take them a whole lot of steps until they reached the port from the platform to the Muggle part of the train station and stopped. Mickey’s lungs felt ready to explode, filled with heavy sighs waiting to be released.

Mickey saw Ian glance at the piece of wall with a deep frown on his face and smirked as Ian turned his face back to Mickey. They wordlessly exchanged another hug but kept it significantly shorter this time. It was ridiculous how Ian was still standing right there but Mickey already m Mickey leaned forward, placing a soft kiss on Ian’s forehead, hoping he could convey everything he couldn’t find the words for.

“I really hope that wasn’t the – ” but Ian didn’t get to finish his sentence before Mickey pressed their lips against each other. It was only a quick kiss but Mickey made sure that it was as loud as possible.

“There. Happy now?”

Ian moved so their foreheads touched again. “The happiest.”

“Sap.” Mickey playfully hit Ian’s arm.

Ian laughed as he stood straight again, rolling his shoulders, and Mickey had half a mind to just kiss him again but he stopped himself. No reason to drag out the inevitable any longer.

“Bye, Ian.” Mickey’s voice was quieter than he expected it to be. He cleared his throat and tried to ignore how much he didn’t want to have to say these words.

“Goodbye, Mickey. See you soon.”

“Two weeks.” Two weeks and everything beyond that was ridiculous to already worry about, Mickey told himself.

With a reassuring look in his eyes, Ian turned around, sped up his steps and jogged towards the portal. Then, Ian was gone.

Mickey stared at the piece of wall that had just swallowed Ian, his eyes losing focus, his heartbeat loud in his ears, seconds ticking in a blur. He took a deep breath.

Mickey walked away, sniffing his nose, itching the inner corner of his eye _. Two weeks, two weeks, two weeks. We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. Right._

Mandy was standing where Mickey had left her, sitting on their trunks, a sheepish smile on her face.

“Took you long enough,” she smirked.

“Shut up,” he replied, taking out his wand so they could levitate their trunks.

She laughed and hopped off before Mickey could accidentally on purpose throw her off, and straightened her clothes. Without any further detours they walked to the fireplaces, trunks trailing after them. The sun was standing low enough that a few dark orange rays managed to squeeze themselves on the almost empty platform. Mickey watched his shadow in front of him, slim and twice his size. An unexpected sense of calm settled inside him, manifesting more and more with each step, spreading from his chest into every corner of his body.

He had something to look forward to for two weeks, no further obligations than waiting for the results of his exams to come in, and an entire summer to do nothing. Life wasn’t all that bad.

Mickey took a handful of Floo Powder as soon as they stood in front of the fireplaces, called out their address, and smiled when he stepped into the green flames.

**Author's Note:**

> part II with years 3 - 7 coming soon! in the meantime talk to me about gryffindor!mickey @ [caputdraconis. tumblr.com](caputdraconis.tumblr.com) (or mickey in general)


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